


May I Have Your Attention Please

by SuchaPrettyPoison



Category: Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aer Lingus, Age Difference, Airport delays sometimes happen, Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author!Ben, Ben is Mr. Darcy, F/M, Ireland, Photographer!Rey, meet cute?, tlj - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuchaPrettyPoison/pseuds/SuchaPrettyPoison
Summary: The stress of traveling wears down people, allowing them to drops their masks, and it was endlessly interesting; trying to understand people meant looking at more than what they outwardly showed.-Still, he was a monster, barely fit to be out amongst people, and not one to be apologized to.He jerked away.  His disgust in himself evident by the way her gaze shuttered for a moment, before she pulled herself up.  Just a girl, with stars in her eyes and a camera around her neck.“Must you always be using your camera.”  It was rude and not a question by any means.  The girl became rigid, her bright eyes narrowing as she scrutinized his face.“I find I see the world clearer through my lens.  Picture is worth a thousand words after all.”





	May I Have Your Attention Please

**Author's Note:**

> To be fair, I'm slightly tipsy, I have been stuck in Florida due to plane delays, and I've ODed on Star Wars today...
> 
> Hope it's coherent...

“May I have your attention please. Aer Lingus regrets to announce that the departure of flight 104 to Dublin will be delayed for approximately two hours due to weather conditions. We are sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused.”

The static voice filled the departure gate. Then was promptly filled with a series of groans and disgruntled voices. 

Rey let her head fall back and thud against the wall. She had set up post on the worn carpet, near a free outlet that was too close to a rubbish bin for most peoples’ comfort. Outlets were a commodity at airports, and with the terminal becoming more and more packed due to delays, Rey knew that her spot was now one that many would covet.

If this weather didn't let up, she was fairly certain that her flight would be cancelled and she really needed to catch this flight to Dublin. 

When you get a call for an in person interview with Luke Skywalker, you go to Luke Skywalker, because working with him was working with a legend. He had dropped out of the spotlight, and settled somewhere in rural Ireland, but would resurface every couple of years to let the world know that he was still the top of his profession. She had been floored when she had received the call asking her if she’d be available to come to Ireland to interview for a position where she’d be trained by him. 

Two more hours of waiting. Easy. Two hours was nothing.

She focused her gaze on her phone which was charging happy beside her and sent off a quick text to Finn to let him know about the current situation - her best friend tended to worry more than he should. With her earbuds in place, she allowed the music to surround her as she continued the edit before the announcement. Rey wanted this job. Let the waiting begin.

-

“May I have your attention please. Aer Lingus regrets to announce that the departure of flight 104 to Dublin will be delayed for approximately three hours due to weather conditions. We are sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused.”

She wasn’t going to be leaving this airport tonight. It wasn’t a negative thought, no one could control the weather, she was more or less just resided to her fate. The same could not be said for several of the other passengers who were clearly becoming more and more agitated by the delays. A man clad in black caught her attention as he stalked to the desk with a hard scowl on his soft lips – a modern day Mr. Darcy. He radiated a cool tension that was captivating. Pointing her camera in his direction she watched through the view finder, waiting for the moment that the mess of contradictions and pieces that shouldn’t fit, was imperfectly perfect. Releasing a breath, she took the shot.

His eyes cut to her. Rey gave him a sheepish smile and a tilt of her head, before she let her gaze drift to a group of six who had taken to playing a game of heads up - they all had pieces of paper attached to their foreheads and a scattering of drinks and food surrounding them. They were making the most of the situation. They couldn’t be much younger than her, probably still in college given that two in the group were wearing NYU hoodies. Bringing her camera up again, she made her slight adjustments and waited for that moment that made her blood sing. Catching the moment of one of the girls in the group guessing who was on her paper correctly and the pure excitement the crossed her face. 

Looking back at the quick shots, Rey smiled softly, before allowing herself to look around again. Her gaze was caught to several people lingering around a charging station; attention on their phones, the others around them were all but forgotten as they charged their electronics. It was a mess of cords, tension, and exhaustion. She brought up her camera, trying to find the perfect balance, when body blocked her view.

Bringing her camera up, allowing her gaze to be filtered through the viewfinder, she tilted her head back till she reached the face of the person hovering over her.

Mr. Darcy.

Pressing down her right index finger the camera’s shutter made a feint noise, before she lowered the camera down but kept her gaze on the man before her.

His detached expression was a practiced one, but the light tick of his jaw gave away the simmering anger he hid below the surface. She tried to mirror his detached but could sense he knew she was fighting back a smile. His black outfit was sleek and too stiff for the transatlantic flight that they were both waiting on. She was dressed for comfort in tan joggers and a cream hoodie that was several sizes too large which proudly displayed the words ‘Creativity is the greatest rebellion in existence’. He stood at an imposing height over her as she held a relaxed position on the ground.  
Rey wanted nothing more in that moment to be an outsider so that she could capture the moment. They were a vision of contrast. 

Pulling out her ear buds, she held his dark gaze and waited for what he had to say. The man had invaded her small section of the airport.

“I did not consent to that picture.” His voice was low with a cool rasp that heated her blood.

“I’m sorry, just trying to fill the time. A study of people. Photographer and all that.” She idly tilted her impressive camera in her hand. His eyes barely flickered to the equipment, instead they seemed locked on her own. A loud silence followed that was filled with the sounds of the terminal.

“I’ll delete them if you’d like.” 

His jaw ticked. She could almost hear how loud his thoughts were, he wore them as tiny micro expressions, and she had the urge to take his picture again. She fought the urge, by resting her camera in her lap. “I’d offer for you to delete them, because I’m getting a sense that you enjoy control, but this is my baby.” She gave the camera a small loving pat. He glared at her and she gave him a smile.

“Come on and take a seat Darcy, I’ll share my outlet.”

Glaring at the ground beside her, he growled out “Forget it” before stalking to the first class lounge.  
Not the oddest encounter she’d ever had. She snapped a picture of his retreating form, as he walked against the flow – people moving quickly out of his way as though he had parted the sea. Abrasive and captivating. 

-

“May I have your attention please. Aer Lingus regrets to announce that the departure of flight 104 to Dublin will be delayed for approximately four hours due to weather conditions. We are sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused.”

In the span of forty-five minutes they had had three separate announcements about delays. At this rate, Rey was fairly confident that they wouldn’t be flying out that night, but as long as the flew out by tomorrow, she’d be able to make her interview.

With all her devices fully charged she unplugged and packed up her bag, keeping her camera out, and decided to explore the airport for the time being. This little outing meant that she had to give up her safe sport, but she had never been good with idle time, no matter how good she was at the waiting game. Rey needed something to do, something to keep her mind off the fact that she had a solid three hours to kill. 

She’d told Mr. Darcy that taking pictures was a study in people.  
The airport would be the ideal place to take such pictures as emotions seemed to run closer to the surface and people tended to let their masks drop. The stress of traveling wore down people and it was endlessly interesting; trying to understand people meant looking at more than what they outwardly showed. She had found that out the hard way, more times than she cared to count. Looking at the world from behind the lens gave her a greater sight. Allowing her to see things she would have otherwise missed.

Or, it could be a moment like this one where she accidently collided with someone because she chose to take a step back to better align a shot.  
Her booted foot landing atop her poor victims and there was a thud as her slim back crashed ungracefully into a man’s solid chest, as his hands shot out to steady her from causing more damage. An apology was falling from her lips before she even had the sense to gather her thoughts, her camera handing by the strap around her neck as she quickly pivoted in the man’s grasp to face him. In her haste she treaded once more on his feet, which were clad in polished black boots, causing scuff marks to commemorate their meeting.

Dark eyes, soft lips, and a hard jaw set met her gaze. It was penetrating, like he saw her the way she saw the world through her photographs. She felt stripped and exposed.  
Mr. Darcy. Well, shit.

-

The girl, and she was that, a girl - she couldn’t be older than twenty, with her fresh face, dusting of freckles, and bright hazel eyes – was looking up at him with flushed cheeks while babbling an apology that didn’t seem to end.

He let his eyes travel down her form, hidden by that ridiculous sweatshirt and pants, she was petite for her height. Then his eyes fell on the newly acquired scuff marks along his boots and he scowled as he flicked his gaze up to the girl who he still held in his arms.  
The one who had taken his picture. Her cheeks were growing redder by the second and he felt a smile compete with his scowl.

“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I normally am. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” 

Was he okay? It was a daily question he asked himself. He always felt like he was on an edge, like he was on a precipice and being torn in two. He had days where his emotions overwhelmed him, that he broke everything in his small apartment, days where he was trapped in his own head – a torture of his own creation, days where he wore a mask and took on the world, and then there were days when he was Ben Solo. Those days had been few and far between, but they had become more and more common. Still, he was a monster, barely fit to be out amongst people, and not one to be apologized to.

He jerked away. His disgust in himself evident by the way her gaze shuttered for a moment, before she pulled herself up. Just a girl, with stars in her eyes and a camera around her neck.

“Must you always be using your camera.” It was rude and not a question by any means. The girl became rigid, her bright eyes narrowing as she scrutinized his face.

“I find I see the world clearer through my lens. Picture is worth a thousand words after all.”

“There is a time and a place.”

“Darcy, I apologized. I’m truly sorry, do you want to go get your shoes re-shined, there is always a station in the airport for some reason. It’ll be my treat.”

There she went again. Calling him Darcy. That wasn’t his name. And although he got the reference he did not appreciate it. She probably considered herself to be Elizabeth, and he did not need that in his life. He needed to get to Ireland, deal with whatever matter his uncle had summoned him for, and then get back to his apartment. His latest work would not complete itself. 

His current work was on the rise and fall of the Ottoman Empire. The subject was fascinating, and had been covered time and time again, but he was certain that this was going to be his best work yet. He had completed his PhD several years ago and a year later he has his first book published. There was truth in history, it was the key to the present and future, to understand it gave a person insight as to the world they were in. He felt locked in himself most days, but writing was his way out, his freedom. He was so stuck in his own head, in his own death and decay that is was hard to see the light, and when he did, it was so blinding that he wanted to be shielded by the darkness.  
This girl, this small girl, had too much light in her for him. She was blinding, she hurt. He needed to get away.

“Watch where you are going next time.” The snarl held little heat. 

“I keep trying to be nice, and you are going out of your way to be an ass.” She glared at him, and he  
fought back a smile again, turning it into a scowl. Her eyes kept flickering across his face, spending more time than was necessary on his lips.

He was self-conscious with his appearance. His ears stuck out. His nose was too big. He had a scar running along across his right eye, down his cheek and neck, from an accident two years’ back. His skin was too pale for his dark eyes and hair. People tended to stare and then look away at his sharp gaze, but this slip of a girl held her own. He wanted to be gentle with her. He felt like she saw him and didn’t feel the need to run.  
He needed to get away.  
He wasn’t meant for a girl like this. He wasn’t meant for anyone.  
He was alone. This world was his to face on his own. He didn’t need anyone.

“Maybe I am just an ass.” 

She laughed at his words. His blood boiled. 

Did she not think he was an ass? Did she think him a joke?

“You’re afraid of me.” His body went rigid.

“Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart.” With that he pushed passed her and stalked toward the desk that had been his original destination. He needed to get out of this place. They needed to get a plane here. There was no need to be waiting. The waiting would kill him.

-

“May I have your attention please. Aer Lingus regrets to announce that the departure of flight 104 to Dublin will be delayed for approximately four hours due to weather conditions. We are sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused.”

They were fucking sorry? They weren’t fucking sorry. They could give too shits if he made this flight or not. He downed the drink in front of him. Hating the way the whiskey heated down his throat. He tended not to drink due to his medication, but it seemed fitting for the moment. He needed to do something.

His pulse started a rapid beat, the anxiety flowing into his blood stream and causing his inner demons to animate. His emotions ruled him on the best day. It was ridiculous for a grown man to be subject to whims based solely oh his emotions, yet here he was pushing thirty and he couldn’t seem to gain control. There was part of him that yearned to be ‘normal’, and yet in the same breath he thrived on being different. On not fitting the mold. He was a disaster, chaos, and ruined all those who touched him.

“Why are you amongst the common folk, when you can be in the lounge?”

She was much too observant. The British accent she had was light and soothing, he wanted to snarl, but she was as broken as him and maybe that’s what held him back. There was an underlining tension, a wave of anxiety that flowed through her, this trip was not one for pleasure. Then why would a single girl make such a trip? She saw the world through a unique medium and held her own while being alone. She was quick to make conversation and bright.

Why wasn’t he in the lounge? He had hoped to run into her again.

“Why are you doing a character study of people in an airport?”

“Because places like this is when people show their true selves, and it’s fascinating.” It was that simple to her. A black and white answer if he had ever heard it. He operated in a sea of dark greys. She picked up her camera and scrolled through till she found the picture of him at the counter.

He had gone to argue about the delay, He needed to get to Ireland. The sooner he saw his bat shit crazy uncle; the sooner he could come home. The sooner he could hide himself away for several months. He didn’t need his family walking on egg shells around him. Giving him looks of pity. He was supposed to be the next great generation. Well, he had let them all down.

The image on the screen of her camera, was him with all his defenses down. He had let them drop for a single moment and she had captured it. Who was this girl?

“I didn’t delete it. You said to forget it, and I figured that extended to the whole picture without consent deal.”

“Who are you?” the question slipped out before he could stop himself.

"I'm just a no one from nowhere.”

He highly doubted that.

**Author's Note:**

> So, cause this is a first, I tend to write for the Arrow fandom. But I am a massive massive Star Wars fan (so many books and clothes) and I've been a Reylo stan since 2015, but after TLJ I just couldn't help myself.  
> Now if you've come over from the whole Arrow deal, hey how are you doing? It's been a while. I'm doing good. Getting back into the writing. It's one of my resolutions for the new year.  
> If you are new to my insanity, hey.
> 
> As some may know, I moved over to Northern Ireland this past summer, so I am currently home in Florida for the holidays (the love of my life is back home in Belfast), I have been stuck in Florida for several extra days due to the insane weather of the North East and then this whole thing happened. By Whole thing, I mean I had a star wars marathon, drank a bottle of champagne (and possibly some whiskey), and decided to write a thing. I think it's cute!  
> But then again, I am in a happy tipsy state.  
> So there is that.  
> The Force can equate to creativity..right?
> 
> Hope ya liked it!  
> I apologize in advance for any and all issues...
> 
> Oh, Shout out to Aer Lingus, my lovely airline of choice!


End file.
